Author Information
"Masque"
by Jeph Johnson
I am quite terrorized
by those kind of eyes
I recoil and tuck my head
inside my shell
For any bewildered gaze
causes a rude melee
I know not the intent
so I rebel
And running from that stare
makes me unaware
If the look was
friendly or a foe
I then turn my head around,
trying to make up ground
And, sure enough,
the eyes still follow
Without my privacy,
there's not sanity
The life I've lived
becomes a masquerade
And when my guard's let down,
smiles turn into frowns
So I hide behind a masque
'cause I'm afraid
But the masque I coyly don,
I barely can put on
For I'd rather run
and keep running all night
The masque is more grotesque
than my soul can confess
I cannot remove it
and that is my plight
When my masque needs to be,
on as a fantasy
It is realistically off
And when society
requires sobriety
My masque is drinking
straight shots of Smirnoff
So why must I have the task
of keeping track the masque?
I may as well toss it and be seen
But how will I do without,
when I've been so devout
And every day to me's like Halloween?
Jeph, The opening and the close work well, but it seems to get rather muddy in the middle third. Are you trying to say too much and stretching the metaphore too thin through there? For me it is boilermakers: Shot of Old Overholt and Bud. Thanks John
Great poem Jeph! I can associate with these words!